Their Generation
by Slytherin Buttercat
Summary: One-shots/drabbles revolving around the Trio's generation. In the last one: Theo and Harry are not deemed compatible. But why doesTheo love him so much?
1. Padma's Twin

**Twins Weekend: Write about twins (Padma and Parvati Patil)**

 **Muggle Art #1 Task One: Write about a character distancing themselves emotionally from something else. (does what she's known as count? Lol, or her sister?)**

 **Writing Club: World Lion Day: Write about a Gryffindor**

 **Word Count: 548**

* * *

 **Padma's Twin**

* * *

Parvati did not want to be known as just 'Padma's Twin' anymore. It was all she had ever been known as. The lesser twin, the spare. The unwanted one. She wanted to become something new, something better. She wanted to become _someone_.

She decided this as she was standing in the Great Hall, waiting for everyone else to be Sorted. Why it took so long for one person to get sorted, Parvati did not know, yet Pansy Parkinson was soon a Slytherin—no surprise to Parvati, as she knew the girl and she had possessed multiple qualities from that House. Then "Patil, Padma" was called.

Parvati watched her sister with little interest. What did she care what House she was put into, other than the fact that she had to know so that she wouldn't be in the same one. If she was in the same one, everyone would mistake her for Padma, or worse, call her Padma's Twin again. She was tired of it, and no longer wanted that to happen. Therefore, she could not allowed it to happen.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Parvati blinked as her sister raced over to her new House, dark hair flowing behind her in a wave of curls. That meant it was her time to shine. Her time to be put under that Hat and find out where she belonged. As long as it wasn't Ravenclaw, she did not care.

"Patil, Parvati."

Her braid bounced on her back as she walked up the Great Hall to Professor McGonagall. She sat down on the stool, allowing the Head of Gryffindor to place the Sorting Hat onto her head.

" _Well, what should we do with you?"_ it asked. " _It has been a year since I've had to sort twins. I hope you make it exciting."_

 _Hello. Do twins_ have _to be in the same House as each other?_

" _Most certainly not, my Dear. Although you do possess many of the qualities that Ravenclaw's have been known to have, you do also represent another House."_

 _May I be placed in that House, then?_

" _Of course. May it be_ GRYFFINDOR!"

A pair of identical red-heads wolf-whistled as she got off the stool and walked over to the table. Parvati only briefly glanced at Padma, whose face was showing an upset expression. Parvati turned away, unbothered. Now she would be known for herself, instead of Padma's twin. She would be the best.

"Hi, I'm Lavender!" a girl greeted as the Sorting finished. "It's nice to meet you! Are you glad to be in Gryffindor House? I am, although my older brother is in Slytherin—but I don't need him, now."

Parvati felt like she could relate, although she did glance back at Padma. She was busy talking to the other kids around her, ignoring Parvati. Well, two could play at that game.

"I'm Parvati. It's nice to meet you, Lavender."

 _(Parvati did not realise that in just a few weeks time, Padma would be referred to as 'Parvati's Ravenclaw Twin.' Nor did she realise that, within Ravenclaw, she would be known as 'Padma's Gryffindor Twin.')_

 _(In those few weeks, however, the girls had made up as Parvati got over her childish jealousy, and Parvati had forgotten all about the name she was given in her attempt to detach herself from it.)_

* * *

 **Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.**

 **(i want to hide in a hole for the rest of my life so that I do not have to write anymore crappy fanfiction, but alas, I write crappy fanfiction instead.)**

 **~Buttercat**


	2. paint my picture (and I'll paint your

**Treasure Hunt: (image) of an easel or two in what I presume is an art studio.**

 **Assignment #2: write about a person who unnecessarily worries too much about a certain situation that turns out fine in the end.**

 **Extra prompt: (action) giggle**

 **A/N: It's in my headcanon that Draco and Luna are cousins through his dad and her mum. What I imagine Pansy looks like: www . pinterest . co . uk /pin/198721402288244591/**

 **Muggle!AU**

 **Word Count: 2863**

* * *

 **paint my picture (and I'll paint your heart)**

* * *

Luna tucks a pencil behind her ear before adjusting an easel so that it is easy for her to reach when she needs to, placing a blank canvas onto it like it's a second nature, despite the fact her hands were shaking harder than they had ever done before. She glares at her pale hands, trying to steady them. She has never been this nervous over a painting before. To be fair, she has never been paid for a painting before, nor has she painted someone whilst they were in the room, nor has she met any of her cousin's friends. All three of those things combined could be enough to make Luna uncharacteristically nervous.

She takes a deep breath in. Remembers all of her meditation techniques. Lets a breath out.

The doorbell rings through her house, singing a Christmas song that is quite out-of-season for the middle of March, but Luna never found herself changing it. She flies out of her art studio, running on her tiptoes into the main hall before she stops, catching her breath. What if Draco's friend takes one look at her before deciding she is not professional enough to buy a portrait from, leaving her stranded on her own doorstep. Pushing those thoughts aside, Luna throws open the door, beaming out at the girl she found waiting there. She has brown, small eyes and warm beige skin, with a heart-shaped face framed by short dark brown hair. "Are you Luna Lovegood?" the girl asks, every bit as posh as her cousin: it must be due to the fact they went to a private school.

"Yes, I am," she replies, pushing the pencil back onto her ear as it threatens to fall. "You're Draco's friend, right? Pandora?"

"Please, if you're a kind person, call me Pansy." Luna is secretly relieved, as she doesn't want the constant reminder of her mother's death to hang over her head.

"Okay, Pansy. Do you need anything before I begin to draw you? A drink, some food? The bathroom is across the hall if you need to pee…"

"I do not need anything right now, Miss Lovegood."

Luna wrinkles her nose but does not comment on the obvious abuse of her name. "Okay, then." Luna wipes her sweaty hands on her overalls, trying and failing to hide her fears. "If you would like to follow me…"

Luna leads Pansy through her house, quickly reaching the art studio. Several paintings are on the walls waiting to be given to the charity shops near her house, and one painting of a cat is leaning against a table, separate from the others so she does not forget to give it to her cousin's private school's caretaker. "There's a sofa over there you can sit on if you want, or you could stand if your legs are up to it. I also have a stool in the corner if you want that instead."

"The sofa shall be fine, thank you."

Pansy settles herself down onto the sofa almost delicately. Luna takes the pencil and twirls it around her fingers. "What kind of pose do you want to do? Who are you going to give this painting to?"

Smirking rather maliciously, Pansy says, "I'm going to give it to my ex, to remind her of what she's lost. She broke up with me on Saturday after three years."

Luna blinks, bewildered. ' _The petty things rich people do in revenge…_ ' she thinks to herself, but says, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm glad to get rid of her. Still, that doesn't mean she could break up with _me._ "

Luna shakes her head, still confused. However, she isn't going to complain too much, as Pansy is paying her for this. "So what pose were you thinking of?"

Pansy doesn't reply with words; instead, she sticks up her middle finger and smiling enthusiastically. Luna refrains from rolling her eyes. "Okay. So, did you want a full-body portrait or just from the torso and up?"

"Torso and up, please."

"Can you get into the position? I will begin to draw you today. I might finish the outline by the time the session is over."

She quickly gets to work, following the shape of Pansy's head with her eyes and trying to recreate it with her pencil. Art is like a way of escaping reality for Luna. Her mother died when she was nine when she was experimenting, and Luna was watching through the door at the time. She went slightly mad after that experience, seeing things that weren't there, and people at the local school began to call her Loony when she tried to tell people about them. Her father ended up taking her to a hospital, despite the fact she did not need help. She spent a few months there, before being released with some medicine and some new friends.

It is late in the afternoon when Luna finally finishes the pencil drawing. "You can move, now," Luna says, and Pansy does, wriggling her bottom and stretching her fingers.

"I have to be here the same time tomorrow, correct?"

"If that is alright with you," Luna replies, smiling. "I think I'll only need two days to paint it—one to paint the base colour and another to add shadows and highlights. Can you wear something like that," she gestures at Pansy's hoodie and choker, "tomorrow, please?"

"Of course, Miss Lovegood."

"It's just Luna," she mutters in a half-hearted reply, leading the older girl out of her house. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow."

* * *

Luna sits at the table with her best friend Ginny the next morning, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate as her friend retells the events that happened to her the night before. Luna is only half-listening, instead thinking about how much they've grown in the past few years.

Luna met the redheaded girl in the hospital. The freckled beauty was in there because a man named Tom Riddle messed with her mind, making her paranoid to the extent where her parents had to go to the police about it. He had played mind games with her when she was just eleven years old, and even when he was locked up she continued imagining things. It took a long time within the hospital to untrain her paranoia, but even when she was released Ginny carried on glancing at windows and the like. It took months for her to go out in the day with any close acquaintances, but now she haunts many local clubs at night with her newest partner, Daphne Greengrass, and their mutual friend Tracey Davis.

Luna grins mindlessly at her friend as she finishes her story, ending on a, "And then Daph punched the dude in the nose for even daring to talk to Tracey!"

Luna nods very seriously. "How much of this one did you listen to, Luna?" Ginny asks, knowing all about her friend's inability to pay attention to many things at once.

"Enough to know that Daphne punched a dude because he said something to Tracey," she replies, shrugging. "I tried."

"You're fine, Luna. It's nice to have someone to talk to even if they're not listening." Ginny glances at her watch, wincing at the time. "Crap. I was meant to meet with Ron for coffee ten minutes ago. I best be going, then."

They stand up together. "I'll show you out," Luna says, tucking her chair in.

Ginny knows her way around the house like it's her own, but Luna just wants to be polite. She hasn't seen her friend for a few days, anyway, and probably won't see her again for another few. They stop outside the door, Luna handing her friend her coat after she slips her shoes on. "I'll see you later, then," Ginny says, kissing her friend lightly on the cheek before throwing open the door.

Luna is the only one who does not look surprised when Pansy Parkinson is revealed when the door is fully open, stretching up to ring the doorbell. Her small mouth is opened in what seems to be an expression of shock, her body frozen in her elegant position.

"Hello, Pansy," Luna says, breaking the two girls out of their positions. "Nice to see you again."

"And you," she replies, glancing at Ginny with something unreadable in her expression. "And you are?"

"Luna's friend, Ginny." She steps around Pansy and looks at Luna. "I'll call you later."

She enters her car and, after a few seconds, drives away.

"Do you need anything before we begin?" Luna asks, but she gets no reply. Luna glances at the girl, who appears deep in thought. "Pansy?"

"Sorry. I feel like I've seen her before somewhere. We can start straight away."

Once in the studio, Pansy settles herself into the position, and Luna fills up a palette with many different colours. She likes colours. The many different ways one could make them are interesting. They could be vibrant, or they could be calm. Colours appear to have many different personalities, just like humans.

"I've finished your face," Luna says after a while, swirling the paint brush in the water pot, knowing that Pansy must be eager to ask questions. "If you want to move your mouth, that is."

"Okay." She managed to talk without moving the rest of her body. "So, where did you go to school?"

"I didn't." Luna doesn't elaborate, instead beginning to colour painting-Pansy's hoodie in a dark green.

"Okay. How do you know Draco, then?"

"I'm his cousin."

"Of course. You've got his eyes."

Luna blinks them, peering out at Pansy. "I always thought I had my father's eyes."

"Ah." Pansy is silent for a few moments before speaking again. "I never see you at the Malfoy Christmas party, though."

"My father and Uncle do not get along. I do not go in respect for my father."

"I see." She probably doesn't.

They are silent for a while, Luna concentrating on her painting whilst Pansy seems to be deep in thought. It carries on that way until Luna places the last base colour onto the easel, saying, "you can relax now, Pansy."

She does so, flinging her body over the sofa almost dramatically. Luna raises her eyebrows, so Pansy says, "It's been a long day."

She does not offer more explanation, so Luna does not ask. Instead, she sits down next to her. "You're overly trusting of someone you've only met twice," Luna comments, crossing her legs.

"You do not seem the type to disabuse my trust," Pansy replies, but she straightens herself, sitting up on the sofa like her cousin does.

Luna hums but says no more on the matter. "You don't have to come in tomorrow if you don't want to. I only have to make you seem more realistic, so whilst you being there would help me know where the lighting falls I don't technically need you here. If you want to go out with any friends, that is."

"No, that's alright: Blaise and Theo are on holiday in Portugal and Draco will not do anything in less than a day's notice. Tracey's been avoiding me. I might as well come here."

Luna nods absently. She lost the conversation halfway through, but nevertheless got the general gist of 'there is no one to do anything with and I don't like to spend my time alone.' Luna can relate: that is why she spends so much time with her colours, after all, and why she makes paintings for people so that she could talk to them. However, the results of when she is left to her thoughts have proven to be drastic, therefore she has to talk to people. Distract herself. Even if she doesn't listen back.

Distract herself… right. She is completely ignoring her guest. Maybe Pansy will complain about her to her cousin. That is sure to be a lovely lecture from her cousin, about how she should pay more attention to some of the dearest people in his life. It is not her fault that Theo Nott is so boring he makes her want to tear her eyes out.

Maybe Pansy won't pay her and then she would be stuck with a rude painting of a girl she is sure is perfectly nice. She doesn't want that to happen, not really, because although she is sure that someone would take the painting she wouldn't want them to think that is all that there is to the small girl beside her.

That is when she realises that Pansy has been talking to her for the past minute, and is now watching her patiently. "Sorry, what did you say?" Luna asks, smiling apologetically. "I'm afraid that I didn't catch it."

"I was just telling you how I got to know your cousin, in case you had wanted to know. It's fine."

"I can listen," Luna offers, placing her hands in her lap and turning her head to face Pansy.

"It's stupid, really." Pansy shakes her head. "I used to be one of the biggest bullies in Hogwarts—that is, my old school. I was regularly in trouble for bullying this boy in my year called Ron and his friend Hermione. Draco grew up before I did, however, and as his duty as a Prefect he had to reshape me into a nice person. Not entirely sure it completely worked, but I'm sitting here talking civilly, so perhaps."

Luna grins. "You're a lovely person, Pansy."

"Thanks, I guess. You don't really know me, though."

"Well, then, tell me more about yourself."

* * *

The next morning, Luna finds herself anticipating Pansy's arrival. She had talked to the girl some more the night before, and even found herself able to pay attention. She wants to see if she can do it again.

When Pansy arrives Luna almost shoves her into the studio, allowing her to settle into her position before breezing through the painting. Once she finishes, she tells Pansy, "You can have the painting tomorrow, if you like. It'll be dry and ready by then."

"Okay. Do you want to… go grab something to eat?" Pansy looks up at her, face so full of hope, that Luna cannot refuse.

They go to a small cafe near Luna's house, which serves the nicest pasta she has ever tried. Luna orders the food, smiling at the cashier in her dreamy way that makes everyone smile back. However, when she sits opposite Pansy again she is suddenly nervous—what is it with that girl and making her nervous? Why did Pansy ask her out? Is this some kind of long plot to make her suffer? Because she is certain she has suffered enough. Maybe Pansy hasn't grown out of her bullying ways after all. Maybe…

Then Pansy smiles at her like she is the centre of the world, and all of Luna's worries melt away. They exchange giggles and more stories over what Luna thinks is lunch as the world around them seems to slow down. This is what Luna likes: distractions from the thoughts in her mind. And Pansy seems to be the biggest distraction yet.

* * *

Luna sits nervously at her table, waiting for Pansy to arrive. This might be the last time she sees Pansy. Having gotten to know the girl over the past three days, she doesn't find herself looking forward to that notion. How could she, when Pansy has been nothing but nice? Even if the painting is ruder than Draco when he is drunk, Luna has found out that the girl is anything but. It would be a shame for that hard-earned friendship to go to waste once the painting is over.

Would Pansy be offended if Luna offered her the painting in exchange for her number? Probably; and besides, Luna couldn't afford that. She needed the money so she could finally move. However, if she just asks for her number then it may seem like she's coming on to her, and she's not: she just wants to be her friend.

The doorbell rings. Luna races to get it, smiling happily at Pansy. "The painting is in the kitchen. I'll go get it."

She runs back through the house, trying not to think of how desperate she must look. Walking slower with the canvas in her hand, she notices that Pansy had walked into the house and is looking at the pictures on the wall as if it's the first time she has seen them. To be fair, it probably is, as Luna always rushed her into the studio before she could do more than breathe. "Here we are!"

"Oh, wow," Pansy says breathlessly. "Daphne is going to adore it."

Luna is not as sure that Pansy's ex would do any such thing. However, she doesn't say anything, instead grinning at the girl. "How much is it?"

"Um," it's now or never for Luna, "it's fifty pounds… and your phone number, please."

Pansy rolls her eyes, causing Luna to shuffle back slightly. "I was going to give you my phone number anyway, you dolt. I've liked getting to know you."

Luna sighs in relief. _Maybe everything will be fine after all._

* * *

 **Bleh. Safe to say Ginny and Daphne were dating when Pansy and Daphne were, making Daphne a cheat and Ginny oblivious. Daphne liked Ginny more. Pansy and Luna both trying to disguise feelings for love into friendship.**

 **~Buttercat**


	3. happy birthday to you (my last farewell)

**Prompt at bottom.**

 **A/N: I feel like if James and Lily survived, they would have** _ **so**_ **many children. This is if Voldemort was destroyed before he killed the Potters, or if NL was the BWL. Take your fancy. Peter was still a traitor to them…**

 **Let's pretend it's the Easter Holidays or something—plausible, as Easter Sunday was 7th April in 1996…**

 **Harry: 16 (Gryffindor), Holly: 14 (Gryffindor), Rowell: 11 (Slytherin), Mia: 6 (would grow up to be in Gryffindor, like her idol). Selene: 13 (Slytherin).**

 **I headcanon Indian!James, so all of his children are half Indian because of this**

 **Crap Crap quick Mpreg warning, I was not expecting it and neither will you, believe me…**

 **Word Count: 1681**

* * *

 **happy birthday to you (my last goodbye)**

* * *

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Blinking open green eyes, Harry looks up to see his youngest sister hovering over his head, her auburn hair dangling in his face and her light brown hands holding something that he couldn't quite see. "What do you want, Brat?" he asks, grinning up at her to show that he is joking.

She plonks his glasses onto his face almost violently, saying, "It's Daddy's birthday, and you know that he gets antsy if everyone isn't celebrating it at eight on the dot. Holly sent me to go get you, as Mummy and Rowell are busy preparing the room with the last balloons before Daddy gets out of bed. Come on, Harry."

She runs out of the room, leaving Harry slightly dazed as he stares out after her. He glances at his watch. "Mia! Why did you wait until five minutes before eight to tell me?"

He does not know if Mia heard him, but he does know that if he does not get downstairs before his dad does then he is likely to ruin the plans of the whole day. He creeps across the landing, races down the stairs, and enters the living room in time to hear his mum say, "That's the last of the preparations."

Harry stares at his mum, her red hair tied back into a braid as she pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry I did not get up in time to help, Mum." He looks around the room, at the balloons tied together that will sing 'Happy Birthday' when his dad walked in and the confetti cannons that will go off at the same time. "It looks good, though."

"Nonsense, Harry. You had a late night distracting your dad from the bottom of the house. Your part in this was just as valuable as ours."

Harry could not reply to that, as his dad walks into the room, causing the cannons to go off and the balloons to start singing. "Happy birthday, Dad!" Harry says along with his siblings, whilst his mum goes over to him and kisses his cheeks

"You did all this for me?" he asks, his grin wide and voice shocked as if they didn't do it every year.

"No. We did it for Uncle Padfoot," Holly says, her voice sounding serious.

Their dad rolls his eyes at her. "Come here, Cheeky."

Holly rushes over to him, throwing her arms around him dramatically. "I'm so sorry, Dad. How will you ever forgive me?"

"Well…" He appears to be thinking very carefully about his decision. "If you help me prank Padfoot when he comes around, I'll forgive you."

"Okay!"

Rowell coughs from where he is sitting, probably to hide the laughter that Harry can see in his hazel eyes. His younger brother fiddles with the buttons on his green pyjama top, saying, "Is anyone ready for breakfast?"

* * *

Harry sits across from his mum at the table, who gives him a wink over her slice of toast. "Thanks for cooking such an amazing meal, Harry," his dad says. "It's absolutely gorgeous, just like your mum."

Mia giggles as their mum rolls her eyes. "Less talking and more eating, Mister," she says, mockingly wagging her finger at him.

Harry smiles into his cup of tea as his dad picks up his toast and bobs it along in the air like it is a boat. "James Fleamont Potter," his mum replies, her voice maintaining a stern tone to it despite the smile making its way to her lips, "we do not play with our food at the dinner table." She sighs, turning to Rowell, who sat next to her. "Merlin, sometimes it's like he is the biggest baby of them all."

"Who's the biggest baby? Prongs?" Sirius' head pops through the door to the kitchen, followed by Remus and their daughter, Selene. "Are you only just finding that—ooh, a toast boat!"

"I find myself corrected," Harry's mum says. "It appears that Sirius is the biggest baby of them all."

"Uncle Padfoot!" Mia exclaims, jumping out of her chair and throwing herself into Sirius' arms. "It's good to see you!"

Selene sits next to Harry at the table, rolling her pale grey eyes as Sirius begins to swing Mia around, her hazel eyes wide with excitement as her light brown legs threaten to hit people in the head and her glasses attempted to fly off her face. "My father is mad," Selene tells the people on the table, her pale hands crossed in her lap.

"Hear, hear," Remus says, smiling at his daughter.

"Are you two talking about me again?" Sirius asks, putting Mia down on the ground and jumping over to Remus like an excitable puppy. "You just can't stop, can you?"

He throws his arms around Remus' shoulders as he says that. "Of course not, my love."

* * *

They all crowd around their dad as he opens his presents, the Potter children finally in clothes. Harry sat in front of his mum, Mia sitting in his lap. He mindlessly braids her hair as their dad opens a present containing a broomstick. "A Nimbus 2005! Wow, Lily, thank you."

"I got it so that maybe, with a faster broom, you can finally beat Harry in a race."

Still holding the broom, he sends their mum a hurt look, as Harry ties a bow at the end of Mia's braid. She climbs off his lap, and kneels at his side, getting bits of his hair to braid. "Open my present next!" Sirius demands, handing a box to their dad.

After the initial shock of a bunch of rubber snakes jumping out of the box (Selene's grin is a little too smug to have no involvement in this), their dad pulls out a picture frame. "Thanks, Mate, but if I wanted a picture of you I just have to look at, oh, the other sixteen I have got."

"This one's special! It's got something new in it."

He stares at it for a few moments before his hazel eyes widen. "Are… are you two expecting another baby?"

He hands their mum the photo, and Harry lifts Mia up onto his shoulders so she can look at it. "Look, Harry!" she says, so Harry lifts up his head to glance at the picture.

Sirius is at the front, waving at everyone looking at him. The background was a light grey, but if one looked hard enough they could see Remus in the background waving around a baby's bib.

"Congratulations, Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus," Harry says, looking up to find the two of them in a pile with his dad hugging them both.

"Thanks, Biggest Fawn," Sirius calls out from beneath the pile.

"Oh, stuff it," Harry hears his mum mutter before she walks over to the pile and joins it.

Soon there are a bunch of laughing Potters crowding around the expecting couple, with Selene finding her way in between her fathers.

* * *

After Harry's dad finishes opening his presents, they go into the garden to play a game of Quidditch. Remus—the one they discover to be carrying the baby this time—and Mia sit on the side of pitch, sipping on pumpkin juice as they watch the others play. With only seven players, they decide to skip the Beaters and Seekers, instead having a time limit of an hour and two Chasers and one Keeper per team (or three Chasers, depending on what team Lily and Selene—who both hate Quidditch—are on). It splits evenly so that there is an equal amount of skill on each team: Sirius, Lily, Selene and Rowell versus Holly, Harry and James. Whilst the other team have more Chasers, Harry and James have been practicing together since Harry was old enough to fly a real broom, and soon they are ahead despite Sirius' excellent Keeping skills. An hour later, they fly down to the ground, Mia rushing to hug Harry, declaring that he is the best Chaser, to their dad's amusement. "What about me, Mia?" he asks, his voice sounding hurt but a smile in his eyes.

Mia shrugs. "You're not Harry's level. He's really fast, and you're a bit slow."

"Race me, Harry," their dad begs, picking up his broom again with his brown hands. "We'll show her who's best."

"You're on, Old Man," Harry replies, and they push off into the air.

* * *

"I still think I should have won," Harry's dad says whilst pouting an hour after Harry won the race.

"I told you Harry is better!" Mia declares, pushing the paper plate with an unfinished slice of pizza on away from her.

"You should have just listened to her, instead of trying to race him, Old Friend," Sirius says, shaking his head slowly. "Girls are very smart."

Selene nods, her light-brown hair falling into her face slightly, as Holly bangs her fist onto the table approvingly. Harry's mum must have slipped out at some point to get the cake, or she would be agreeing too. Rowell, ever loyal to his mum, says, "Mum would agree too."

Then the light goes out, and the candles on the cake are the only light source that there is. Mia grabs Harry's hand, and he squeezes it reassuringly before they begin to sing.

"Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday dear—" and there a variety of names are called: Harry's personal favourite being Sirius', who called out 'Shithead' (which Mia must have found just as amusing as he did, because she giggled loudly, even when Remus hit his husband on the arm).

"Happy Birthday to you."

His dad blows out the candles, and the world goes dark.

* * *

 _Harry blinks open his eyes, tears streaming down his light brown skin. He clutches the box of Daydream Charms in one hand, the feeling of Mia's hand in his still in the other, wanting the life he could never have. Now he has to play hero in the plan that Albus Dumbledore has laid out for him._

 _Before that, however, he would have to tell the twins that their products are rather realistic..._

* * *

 **Task: Assignment Two: Performing Arts Task 3: Write a popular trope (all just a dream)**

 **Is this sad enough? I don't think it is.**

 **~Buttercat**


	4. my mind is battered and bruised

**The Golden Snitch: Father's Day Event. School: Beauxbatons. House: Barbegazi. Prompt: Mr Nott. Points total: 10.**

 **Warnings: Emotional child abuse(?), child death, character death.**

 **A/N: Wizards are not as medically advanced as Muggles. Also, in the Nott family the first-born son carries the name Theodore, I've decided, because I thought that was canon until I realised it wasn't. That will be all.**

 **Word Count: 1847**

* * *

 **my mind is battered and bruised (am I not worth your love?)**

Theodore James Nott is two when his first sibling is born. It's the third of July, 1982, and his sibling is Cleo Patra Nott: the first-born daughter of Theodore Markus and Penelope Jane Nott. He meets her once, peering through the cot she is kept in. He watches as his mother sleeps and his father tenderly rocks Cleo against his chest.

The next day, Cleo doesn't wake up, and the doctor gently tells them that Cleo did not make it through the night. She was too weak: but she is better off now. Theodore sits on a bench in the hospital room, watching as his mother cries into his father's shoulder. They can try again in a year, that's what the doctor tells them. Cleo Patra's case is peculiar. It will not happen again.

* * *

Theodore is four when his second sibling is born. It's the seventh of November, 1984, and this time he has a brother: Lewis Maxwell Nott. His parents are so happy about Lewis' birth: he can hear them sending messages to their friends through the Howlers they had bought. Soon, they say, you can see him. He's a beautiful thing, they declare, with creamy skin and pink lips. He has his father's colouring, they announce proudly into the letters, and his little fingers wrap beautifully around little Theodore's fingers.

One night they hear Lewis coughing in his hospital bed. It's only three days after his birth, so they haven't left yet. Theodore is reading a book with his father when it first starts. His father glances at his mother nervously, before looking down at Theodore and not saying anything.

The next morning, Lewis is lying down in his cot, not moving. It's like Cleo all over again. The doctors say it's the same disease that got Cleo. They reckon it was left over in the womb, but it should be fine now. Lewis must have taken it all up. It would be safe to try again next year. It will not happen again.

* * *

Theodore is six when his third sibling is born. It's the fourteenth of May, and Maxwell Lewis Nott is named after his older, late, brother. Theodore understands more now. He understands that the other siblings are dead. He understands that their deaths have taken a toll on their parents. His father has always wanted a big family. He will not just stick with one child. And his mother can't tell him no.

So they crowd around Maxwell, whose small hands are reaching out to grab his father, whose hand are reaching down to grab him. They are leaving the hospital. It's a good sign, as they haven't left the hospital with a baby before. Other than Theodore, that is, but that happened years ago. This is now.

It lasts until the first of June. Maxwell starts coughing: harsh, violent coughs that shouldn't come out of a baby's mouth. They rush him to the hospital but it's too late. Two days later, he dies.

More people have met baby Maxwell, and they all agree that he was a happy baby. No one had wanted that to happen, and yet it happens. He dies. The doctor says that surely must be the last of it. His father isn't so sure anymore. His mother is already planning for the next baby, to please his father. Maybe one day he can have a sibling that lasts.

* * *

Theodore is almost eight when Thana Cleo Nott, his fourth sibling, is born. It's the eighth of January, and Theodore is terrified of what's going to happen next. Will she die too? It seems likely if she follows the trend of his other siblings.

But she's lasted a month and nothing has gone wrong yet. The doctors check up on her every week and say that although there are signs of the illness that took the others, it is probably only showing up as the traces of her siblings are still in the womb. She will not be like them. She will not die.

Theodore spends time in the library, researching the illness that his siblings had. It's called Magicae Contritum, what he discovers to roughly translate to broken magic. The magic doesn't develop properly in the womb, so it goes wild in the body, squashing their lungs until they cannot breathe anymore. The effects can appear from one hour after birth to five years of age. It always ends in death as there's no cure. It doesn't happen often enough for people to consider finding one.

They're unsure what triggers the effects, nor what causes a baby to get Magical Contritum in the first place. People believe it's due to a malfunction in the womb, but there's not much speculation on it. Theodore finds out what he wants to be when he's older: a Healer. One that specialises in child diseases.

It's March when the happy image is shattered. Thana has to go to St Mungo's, and later, on the sixth of March, she dies. His mother is distraught, but she will have that baby. Theodore needs a sibling. He'll be lonely otherwise, even though he has a cousin the same age who he sees. They will try again. The results will be better. The doctor will try next time if it happens again.

* * *

Theodore is almost ten when his sixth, and final, full-sibling is born. It's the fifth of March, a day before Thana's anniversary, and Penelope Thana Nott has been named after her. The birth was long: longer than any of the others. Theodore has been to all of the births, and the deaths, and none of them were this long.

Theodore is almost ten when his mother dies.

Her funeral is a small event. It's just Theodore, his father, little Penelope, and his mum's mum. They all crowd around a light coffin as it is buried next to their other four siblings. Her grave is bigger than theirs, with more words, signifying her longer life. It should be longer. Theodore misses her.

The doctor finally discovers Theodore's mother's womb was incapable of properly growing a magical baby. Instead of producing Squibs, she produced babies with Magicae Contritum: as they had some magical power, but it wasn't developed enough because her womb just couldn't handle it. Theodore's father assumes that it was Theodore's birth that ruined it.

He doesn't talk to Theodore anymore. He feeds him, and even gave him presents for his tenth birthday: a few new robes and some potions ingredients for his Potions. It's not so different from before: after the first few deaths his father began to blame him. It wasn't so noticeable, as his mother's influence helped, but it was there.

Theodore sits in his room, makes his potions, reads his books and waits for his Hogwarts letter. On his siblings anniversaries, he Floo's to the graveyard and places flowers on their graves. Flowers that they never got to know, but still. It's the thought that counts, and he never sees his father there. He's always at home, looking after Penelope. She's quite sickly, but it's not as bad as Magicae Contritum yet.

There's a possibility she doesn't have it. His father is keeping a very close and overprotective eye on her so that she doesn't die by something else. Theodore can't help but think it's pointless.

* * *

He gets sorted into Slytherin. All Notts have been Slytherins. Theodore writes to his father telling him the news, before settling down for the night. He will deal with Slytherin politics the next day.

It's two months in before he gets a reply. He never expected one, not really. The other Slytherins all get mail. Pandora Parkinson talks about her mother and her new boyfriend. Draco Malfoy is always talking about his fabulous Manor and his fabulous family. His mother is always sending him letters about how much she misses him. Millicent Bulstrode sometimes get packages from her mother, small things that make sense to no-one that isn't related to them.

Theodore's letter from his father consists of four words: 'don't mail me again.' It's more words than have been spoken to him since his mother's death. Somehow, it excites him.

He has to stay at home over the holiday. His father never invites him back home, but it's fine. He isn't alone: Pandora 'Please-Call-Me-Pansy' Parkinson has to stay as well, as her mother is using the holiday to strengthen her relationship with her new boyfriend. It's fine.

* * *

Pansy Parkinson opens the letter she has received before turning to look at Theodore in disbelief. "What?" Theodore asks, narrowing his eyes.

"My mother would like to announce her marriage to one Theodore Markus Nott. Is that your father? Do you know anything about this?"

Theodore turns to glance at his cousin, Millicent, who shakes her head. Her mother hasn't written to her about any marriage either. "I didn't even know my father had found a new partner," Theodore says to Pansy, because it's true.

"Why not?" Pansy's narrow eyes show her disbelief, and she crosses her pale-brown arms.

"My father did not feel the need to tell me." It's also true.

"It says here that they celebrated their wedding on one Penelope Thana Nott's first birthday. Do you have a little sister?"

Theodore is surprised that his sister is still alive. He is not as surprised that they celebrated their wedding on his mother's anniversary. "Yes. I do."

* * *

Theodore follows both Millicent and Pansy out of the train. Pansy leads him over to a woman who looks like her, who is standing next to Millicent's mother and his aunt. "It's nice to see you again, Theo," his aunt says, reaching down and kissing his head before turning to her only child. "We must be going now, Millie. I'll see you again soon, Crystal."

They Apparate off, leaving Theodore with Pansy and her mother. "So you're Theodore?" Pansy's mother asks. "You don't look much like your father."

"That's because I took my mother's colouring," Theodore replies. It's the fifth of July, the anniversary of his first sibling, and he's slightly irritable.

"I'm going to take the both of you home. Your father would have come but he has to look after Penny. Such a sweet girl…"

Theodore's eyes darken, so Pansy grabs hold of his hand. This woman shouldn't be allowed to talk about his sister. She doesn't deserve—

He blinks, and then he's home for a lonely summer.

* * *

Penelope lasts until her second year before she starts. It's early August and the symptoms are showing again. They're worse than the others, however, as they have been stewing for longer. She lasts an hour before giving up.

The words start then. Useless, worthless, freak. His father hates him more than he did before. It's a never-ending cycle.

* * *

When Thomas Theodore Nott, and his twin sister, are born, Theodore knows the hatred is real. He has been replaced by the new son. The son that is likely to survive and not destroy his mother's womb. The new, and better, Theodore. The son of Crystal and Theodore Nott.

* * *

 **His father never meant to dislike him. I think the /abuse/ could've gone worse, but Theodore Markus distanced himself because he didn't want to hurt him. Millicent's mother, Theresa, is Theodore Markus' sister. Pansy is Theodore James' step-sister now. The twin sister of Thomas Theodore is called Calypso Penelope.**

 **~Butter**


	5. we kill, we love (just don't kill the lo

**Triwizard Tournament: (AU) Assassin, (Character) Mandy Brocklehurst, (HoH OTP) Dramione, (Restriction) no pronouns**

 **Assignment 4: History of Muggles: 2a - Write about someone following directions.**

 **Chocolate Factory: Write about Draco Malfoy: word prompts: aunt, abusive, grass, duck, plant**

 **Word Count: 897**

* * *

 **we kill, we love (just don't kill the love)**

* * *

"Go left."

"Left?"

"Yes, left—no, Hermione, now you've missed it!"

Hermione grinned sheepishly, looking at the man in the passenger seat and smiling. "I didn't hear you, Draco. I'm sorry."

"Yes you did!" Draco exclaimed. "You even replied to me! You're just useless."

Hermione and Draco had been working as a team for years. Some might call that team the best team of assassins that the force had ever met, but a few close friends knew that Hermione and Draco both just really liked killing people—Hermione had a bad history and killing ran in Draco's family. Mandy Brocklehurst was the one to first make the team a thing, deciding that Hermione and Draco would work well together.

Mandy wasn't wrong. Every kill that team made together was done well. An abusive father? Found dead after what seemed to be a pub fight gone wrong. An assumed murderer? Gone in a flash. A child-rapist? Well… let's just say it was deserved.

Despite the way Hermione and Draco worked as a team, the bickering was something people had to get used to. Hermione was used to always being right, and Draco was used to everything going the way that Draco desired, so when something opposed those beliefs both reacted violently. Whether it was with words or weapons did not matter: all that matter was that many of the people that disrespected those beliefs were dead.

All but three: Hermione, Draco, and Mandy. Mandy didn't mind telling Draco when something was not rightfully Draco's to claim, nor did Mandy mind telling Hermione that what had been done was wrong. Both members of the team trusted Mandy's opinion, and therefore held Mandy in a higher position of respect than anyone else. Hermione, Draco and Mandy made an unlikely trio of friends, yet it worked. All three respected each other, and listened to each other, and worked well together. Most of the time.

Back to the story at present. Draco was giving Hermione directions, who was trying to listen yet failing miserably. The gunshots at a recent killing had weakened Hermione's ears considerably, so it was a mission trying to hear anything correctly. Draco had seemed to have forgotten that.

"Just turn around." A short sigh. "We can try again now."

Hermione nodded, making a U-turn before getting back to where it had started. This time, the car did go left, past the fields of grass and a few slow cars. "You're going too fast," Draco complained, just for the sake of complaining.

"Do you want to get there before Andromeda leaves, or not? You know that she isn't going to stay there forever, and Bella is going to pay us a huge sum if we do this."

"I'm not sure why my aunt hates Andromeda so much, beyond the usual hate as she didn't join the family business," Draco muttered, seemingly talking out loud to nobody in particular, before talking louder. "However, she won't leave in just three minutes! You can afford to slow down to seventy miles, Hermione."

"Somebody has to be a risk-taker," Hermione shot back. "You're just a wimp."

"No, I'm not. I'm reasonable."

"You're just afraid that you're going to die in something as pathetic as a car crash." Draco didn't deny it. "I'm a competent driver, Draco!"

"Turn around this roundabout, onto the third exit," Draco replied. "That is, if you can follow directions."

"I can!" Hermione turned around the roundabout. "See?"

"You're so impressive that I'm shaking in my shoes." Draco grinned. "Joking. I love you really."

Hermione blinks, before replying with: "You better love me. I'm all that you have."

Hermione follows the remainder of the directions before stopping outside of an abandoned car park. Opposite the car park was a block of flats, which Hermione knew that Andromeda would leave in five minutes to get to work. Slipping the mask on, Hermione turns to Draco, whose blond hair is covered by another black mask. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Together, Hermione and Draco entered the car park, barely an image of the building that the car park once resembled. Hands were clasped together as the duo ducked under low archways and small signs. Hermione heard Mandy's voice through the earpiece. "Are you there now?"

"Yes," Draco whispered back, reaching a gap in the wall that looked out to Andromeda's house. Three minutes until Andromeda left for work.

"Good. We've got camera's watching you now, so we know if we need to help you. Put your guns up."

Hermione complied, looking through to see where Andromeda would walk out. Any second now…

There! Oh, no, that girl had bright pink hair and a pretty face. Probably the child. Draco's head shook, a silent signal to Hermione showing that Draco knew. Andromeda would be next.

A few minutes passed. Another woman walked out, brown, curly hair that could rival Bellatrix's. That was Andromeda. Draco nodded, so Hermione positioned the gun. One. Two. Blam!

A scream. A tyre squeal. "Run, Hermione, run!"

Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and ran off in the direction of the car. The escape would be easy. The easiest bit of the whole killing is the escape, after all. Like a trip in the park.

 _(Just another day in the job._

 _Just another day with Draco by Hermione's side._

 _A normal day with Hermione and Draco killing people before making love back home.)_

* * *

 **Um. This is crap. I hate Dramione. Ew.**

 **~Buttercat.**


	6. I won't leave (till we're finished here)

**Golden Snitch: Barbegazi: Anniversary Event: Yellow Balloon: Write about Justin Finch-Fletchley**

 **Links to: the best of us can find happiness in misery**

 **Word Count: 625**

* * *

 **I won't leave (till we're finished here)**

* * *

He finds her not long after the war is over. Susan directs him to where she is hiding, a small house in the middle of nowhere. There's a woman in the kitchen, but he can't find _her_. "'O are you?" the woman asks, turning around to face him with a semi-disgusted expression on her face.

"I'm—I'm Justin," he replies, because that's who he is.

"Are you looking for Eloise?" The woman doesn't wait for an answer, instead calling for Eloise.

His friend enters the room slowly, cradling a massive bump that is in her stomach. Justin doesn't understand what it is, until it clicks as to why Susan told him to be careful. She's pregnant. Justin is shocked but he tries to push past it.

"Hello," Eloise says timidly. "It's nice to see you, Justin."

"And you." He contemplates asking her if she is okay, but that is probably a stupid idea. It's obvious she's not okay from the dark circles under her eyes and the subtle downturn of her lips.

"Did you fight in the final battle?" she asks, voice weary. "I would have, only…" She gestures at the bump.

"Yes, I did," Justin replies. "I fought with Susan, Hannah and Ernie. We fought for you."

"That's good." Eloise smiles at him. It doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks for coming. I was hoping… that you would."

"I wouldn't imagine not being here," Justin replies. "What have I missed?"

So Eloise sits him down on the sofa, and tells him everything that he missed when he was on the run. At the end, Eloise has to wipe away a few tears, and Justin wraps her in his arms. "I'm here for you now," he whispers into her ear, and she just wraps her arms around him tighter.

* * *

A few days later, on the tenth of May, Eloise goes into labour. The woman, who Justin finds out is Eloise's aunt, helps her deliver the baby, and a few hours later a small baby girl is born. "She's beautiful," Justin tells Eloise.

"Are you sure?" she asks, fear in her voice.

"'E's positive," Eloise's aunt, Eve, answers, placing the baby into Eloise's arms. "Oi, Dawn, get a mop and bucket and clear this mess up."

Dawn is Eve's youngest child. She's almost fourteen but she's not at Hogwarts. Dawn jumps and almost runs out of the room, her brown hair bouncing on her shoulders.

Eloise smiles down at the baby. "Hello," she says softly, rocking the bundle of blankets in her arms. "I'm your mummy. And you're my little ray of hope." Eloise blinks twice, looking over Eve's shoulder to find Justin. "Is Hope an okay name for a baby?"

Justin is surprised to be asked a question about the baby that's not his, but he answers anyway. "It's a perfect name."

Eloise turns back to her aunt. "I want to call her Hope Gabrielle."

Dawn walks back into the room, carrying the mop and bucket in her hand. It shakes slightly as she sets the bucket down on the floor and cleans up the remains of the blood. "That's a lovely name, Ellie," Eve replies, her brown hair dangling over her shoulder as she bent down to look at Eloise. "Is it for Gabriel?" Gabriel is Eloise's older brother. He died in the battle the other day.

"Yes."

* * *

A month has passed and they've finally left the house in the middle of nowhere. Justin has no family left, so he invites Eloise to stay in his house and she says yes. He treats Hope as if she is his own child, even if she is far from it. "Thank you," Eloise murmurs one night before they go into their rooms.

"What for?"

"For saving me."

* * *

 **Ew. Ew ew ew. I love Justin/Eloise but this doesn't do them any justice whatsoever. Eh.**

 **~Buttercat**


	7. I never dreamed of this

**For Sam (HP Slash Luv). A late (late) Secret Santa fic for last year. Uses elements of the song 'This Love' by Taylor Swift. Harry/Hermione.**

 **Barbegazi: Golden Snitch Forum: Thestral: write about Harry Potter**

 **Word Count: 1000**

* * *

 **I never dreamed of this**

* * *

 _ **preface**_

 _this love_

She knows where to find him when she seeks his warm presence. He knows where to find her when he craves company. They're both often lonely. They find comfort in each other.

It has been this way for years now. They were both broken after the war, shells of their former selves. They found each other in that dark time, and brightened each other's worlds.

 _is alive,_

It really begins two years after gentle touches and dancing around the subject of _them_. He makes the first move, his scarred hands caressing her flushed cheeks and pressing his lips to her own dark lips. It becomes serious, beautiful, fierce. If anyone got in the way of them, they will find out about it. They will be punished appropriately.

Their love almost seems to pulse through their veins, beating with intensity. It's strong. It's fresh. It's _deadly_. Anything could happen. Anything will happen. Anything has happened. It's a free game and they're the only winners.

 _back from the dead._

This is not the first time they've been together. In sixth-year, they tried out a relationship, but the war killed it. Their love does not die, however, and they are stronger than before now. It's no surprise when he pulls out the small diamond ring, and even less of a surprise that she says yes.

Marriage will make this stronger. Who knows what the future will hold?

* * *

 _ **now**_

Harry turns to his best man, fear in his green eyes. "What if she changes her mind?" he asks, sudden nerves pounding through his body.

Draco claps him on the shoulder lightly. "She would be mad to change her mind now," he says, loyal like he has been since the end of the war—when many people he loved (including Ron) died. "You're a dashing lad."

"No one says that anymore," Harry replies instantly, giving his friend a small smile. "You're a bit behind in time."

"You're a bit behind in time if you let pubescent worries like 'will she leave me?' bother you."

Harry rolls his eyes, feeling slightly cheered up, but cannot reply as Kingsley—the speaker for the wedding—says, "Positions, everybody."

The guests stood up, a sea of red hair standing out as the Weasleys seem to be the biggest crowd here. Then his thought stop whirling as his beauty walks down the aisle. She's dressed in a light shade that complements her skin, her normally-bushy hair cascading down her back in soft waves. Harry falls in love all over again.

Then the song is over, and Hermione is at his side. Harry grabs her hand, and she squeezes it softly. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Hermione Jean Granger, and Harry James Potter," Kingsley starts in his deep voice, his dark hands stretching out.

Wisps of white light fly out of his hands and wrap themselves around the couple, bringing the two together. The light twirls around, circling their arms, legs, torsos. It gradually turns gold, signifying that they are a perfect match. "Lovely," Kingsley says, snapping his fingers and banishing the wild magic. "Let's get on with the wedding, shall we?"

Harry and Hermione both nod, with his eyes glancing down to look where the light once was. "Repeat after me, Harry. 'I, Harry James Potter.'"

"I, Harry James Potter," he repeats, looking back into Hermione's warm brown eyes.

"'Take you, Hermione Jean Granger.'"

"Take you, Hermione Jean Granger."

"'To have and to hold from this day forth.'"

"To have and to hold from this day forth."

"'Until magic may take me.'"

"Until magic may take me."

Harry smiles at Hermione as she completes that speech as well, but with the names swapped around. "Now will be the exchange of rings."

Teddy, small at just four years old, almost races over to where they stood, the rings on a cushion held in his hand. His hair changes colours rapidly as he hands the rings over to Kingsley, and skips back to where Ginny is holding out a hand for him. Kingsley hands one of the rings to Harry, and Hermione hands a smooth hand to him. He holds it and slips the ring on her finger, saying, "I give you this ring to show my love for you."

Something seems to excite Hermione as it touches her finger. She smiles at him warmly, getting his ring off of Kingsley and grabbing his hand. "I give you this ring as an eternal message that I will always love you."

As soon as the ring touches his finger, he feels a rush of magic flow through him. He grins, as Kingsley says, "You may now kiss the bride."

It's only a gentle kiss (all of their friends are there, after all), but all of their love for each other flows through it. "I am glad to announce Mr and Mrs Harry and Hermione Potter."

They grab each others hands again before walking down the aisle. It's finally happened. They're married. And Harry is the happiest that he has ever been. He's with the love of his life, his best friend around the corner and most of the people he has ever loved around him. He is free from the war. He is free from the stress. He is just free in general.

And he loves it.

* * *

 _ **afterword**_

 _this love is good_

They last a long time together as husband and wife. They have three happy, healthy children: James Sirius, Lily Luna and Rosalie Emma. They die together just as they live for each other: fighting for one another. They are struck down by a new force of evil, someone to rival the famous Lord Voldemort. They leave a new set of orphans to fight a war, but at least they will have each other. He will remain with them forever in their hearts, and she will stay in their minds.

Warmth and comfort greets them as they reach the afterlife, and they remain together for all eternity.

* * *

 **I imagined this differently when I started writing it. I just thought of the preface but then that was too short and then I needed to get to 1000 words so I had to do the afterword so it's basically three sections of bullcrap instead of two now. Hope you enjoy it anyways, Sam! Sorry that it's ten years too late!**

 **~Buttercat.**


	8. change

**assignment** three **mythology task three: write a story set near/on water**

 **word count, 316**

 **warnings for mentions of death? maybe implications of attempted suicide.**

 **/**

He sat by the edge of the lake, staring

out at the water. It stayed still, hardly changing. Unlike his life. So much had changed recently and he hated it.

He had always thought that his twin would be there forever. That they would raise their kids together. Hell, he even thought that they would get married on the same day!

Now Fred was dead.

He threw a stone into the lake, angrily wiping away tears that had leaked out. He didn't need those tears. He missed him so much that it hurt. It literally felt like someone had torn a hole out of him, destroyed a piece of his heart. He needed his twin.

He dangled his feet closer to the lake, the toes touching the smooth water. His family always went to this lake for day trips out when he was younger. Percy had gotten pushed into it more times than he could count. Him and Fred were always bullying him, because Percy was older and smarter and snootier. They had hated it.

But now Percy was his closest brother, and it felt wrong because Fred should be his closest brother, not him, but Fred was dead and Percy was the last one to make him laugh and nothing made any sense anymore.

It had only been six months. Everything was changing: his siblings were getting married and his parents were arguing more and Bill was trying for a baby. Everything was wrong.

A smooth hand touched his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Come on, George," her voice said, smooth as butter. "Let's go home."

He followed her. His saving grace. He didn't know what he would do without her. His Angelina. She had stopped him from doing unthinkable things so many times. He couldn't live without her, not anymore. She was the only thing keeping him alive right now.


	9. where nothing really matters

**pinata: death eater**

 **going, going, gone: Drarry**

 **writing club: tsotm: tony stonem: (character) draco malfoy, (colour) red, (dialogue) "I had everything I wanted and lost it all. Hurts like fuck. But I'm going to get it all back. Piece by piece. What else is there?"**

 **au: neville is the bwl. theodore is punished for his father's mistakes (for theodore's father was the one that made the mistakes). warning for slight mention of past suicidal thoughts**

 **word count: 1465**

* * *

 **where nothing really matters (except for me to be with you)**

* * *

Draco looks down at his left arm. It's covered, disguising the disgusting mark that lies there. He feels sick. He hates it so much, it goes against everything he wants to believe in: everything that he does believe in. But his father said he should take it and the Lord said he would kill his mother and his aunt said she would target his lover.

Draco looks up when _he_ walks into the compartment. "Sorry it took so long," he says, his cheeks red from walking. "Ron and Hermione wanted to catch up before they went on their Prefect duty."

Harry. He is his world. Harry saved him so many times in the future, despite his past arguments with both the Boy Who Lived and the redhead family. Harry was the one who found him when he was just about to give up. He's the reason he's alive.

Harry bends down and kisses Draco's cheek, and Draco can't help but smile. He can be a Death Eater if it saves Harry. He deserves the saving.

* * *

It's clear that the dynamic within Slytherin is very different. Theodore Nott appears more controlling, more manipulative, but Draco can see through the false facade. The boy is exhausted and Draco doesn't know why.

Blaise doesn't talk to Theodore anymore, and Draco thinks that they've fallen out over something. They were so close before the summer… before the Lord started initiating sixteen-year-olds. And suddenly all the pieces fall into place.

* * *

Theodore seems to be planning for something. Draco watches him from behind the grey armchairs, and he spots a blueprint of the school and several dark curses. This is bad. Very bad.

* * *

Draco is with Harry in a classroom when the green-eyed boy asks a question. "Do you know Theodore Nott well?"

Draco looks at Harry's red tie, trying to calm his pulse. "Only slightly. We share a dorm. He's… distant."

"Neville thinks he's a Death Eater."

The mark on Draco's arm twinges at the word. "Why does he think that?" he asks, his voice steady.

"Apparently he wouldn't let the assistant in Madam Malkin's go anywhere near his left arm. And he's different this year, more like twelve-year-old Malfoy." Harry grins to show that he is only teasing. Draco tries to slow his heartbeat.

"I wouldn't know if he was. I am not that close to him." Draco leans forward to kiss Harry's lips, and tries to squash down the guilt that is vibrating in his heart.

* * *

Draco confronts Theodore three days after the Yule break. "What are you trying to do, Theodore?" he asks, not caring about how harsh his voice sounds.

Theodore takes in a deep breath. "I can't talk about this here. Meet me on the Seventh Floor in ten minutes."

That is suspicious, but Draco doesn't want to miss out on crucial information, so he makes his way to the Seventh Floor where he discovers a new room. Inside is a clutter of junk, and he finds Theodore near a cabinet. "I'm a Death Eater," Theodore says as Draco approaches him. "I have to kill Dumbledore. I hate it."

Draco hears the words 'I have to kill Dumbledore' over and over in his head for at least a minute before the words finally click. "I'm sorry," Draco replies, looking away from the other boy.

"Can you help me, Draco? I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I know you're one too: you've never gone this long without undressing in front of one of your roommates."

Draco sighs. "I'll help you, Theodore."

Theodore looks so relieved that it makes Draco feel a bit better about this agreement. He isn't sure, but he's pretty sure that Theodore used to be so blatantly anti-Death Eaters before this. Maybe he has to ask Blaise…

* * *

Draco is running. Theodore snuck the others into the school and Snape killed Dumbledore and Harry saw him. The look of betrayal was so strong, and then a red curse was fired his way by the one he loves.

So he runs.

There isn't anything else he can do.

* * *

The months go by quickly now that he no longer has Harry to help him. The Lord stays at his Manor, and Theodore and Draco are hailed as heroes for helping the older Death Eaters get into the school. It makes Draco sick.

Then it's back to school where the Carrows punish anyone who goes against them. He makes the participants of the classes go against each other, and Draco can hardly bare to raise his wand to the redhead that Harry admires. He stands to the side whilst others take pleasure in the torture curses, and tries not to wince as the redhead glares at him.

He tries not to notice Harry's absence.

* * *

He's in Draco's house. He's here. He should not be here, not under these circumstances.

"Is this the Longbottom, Draco?" his aunt asks, her voice half-crazed.

The Boy Who Lived has a massive boil in the middle of his face, and his fringe is covering the lightning bolt scar, but it is definitely him. He knows that Harry and the Granger girl left to go with him.

Harry looks away from him, as if expecting him to give them up. Longbottom stares him down defiantly. "I'm not sure, Bella," Draco replies, his heart pounding. "His face is too messed up for me to tell. It doesn't look like him."

"What about him?" Bellatrix asks, dragging Harry into the light. "He's in your year too, right? The Potter boy: they say he has eyes as green as his mother did."

Draco puts on a show of looking at Harry's face without actually seeing anything. "I am pretty sure Potter's eyes are less green. And he has glasses."

Bellatrix growls, shoving Harry away from her. "This is definitely the Mudblood, though. Put those two in the Dungeon, Draco. I have something to discuss with Little Miss Granger here."

Draco looks away as Bellatrix drags Hermione over to the dining table. He directs Harry and Longbottom through the Manor, until reaching the Dungeon. He opens the door and the old man in the corner flinches away, as Luna stares defiantly up at him. He just shrugs slightly at her before saying, "Sit. Bellatrix will probably deal with you later."

He puts the key in the lock as he closes the door but he doesn't lock it. Hopefully that will be enough for them to get out.

Neville knocks him over in the battle later but Harry's eyes never leave him. It unnerves him, and he can see those emerald eyes even when Bellatrix is unleashing her anger on the rest of the house late into the night.

* * *

Draco sends silent spells into the backs of unsuspecting Death Eaters alongside Theodore and Blaise. Finally, he can show his true colours.

It's when he meets up with Vincent as he's trying to stop Harry and his friends get into the Junk Room when he finally snaps. "Oi, mate, help us stop them," Vincent says, a laugh in his voice.

"No? Why not? I thought you would have loved to join in. It would be everything you've wanted."

Draco feels the anger roll over him in a wave of red. "I had everything I wanted and lost it all," he says, trying not to look at Harry as he says it. He fails, because he notices emerald eyes glancing at him slightly. "Hurts like fuck. But I'm going to get it all back. Piece by piece. What else _is_ there?" Draco feels his lip quivering, and he brushes off the wave of tears. "It was all I had worth living for. Now, if you would excuse me, I would like it very much if you got out of the way."

Vincent does not, and he gets what is coming for him when he causes the Junk Room to go up in a burst of red flames. There are only two brooms, bur Harry helps Draco onto the back of his broom and they're flying through the room and out of the flames.

Harry rushes off again with the Boy Who Lived but not before giving Draco a small smile. Draco takes a deep breath in, turning back to Theodore and Blaise, who stayed outside the whole time. "Let's go."

* * *

Together, they help save several people from the Light Side that might have died otherwise. Together, they pay for their mistakes.

And when the Boy Who Lived jumps back up after pretending to die, Draco is there behind him. And when the battle is over and everything is fuzzy due to exhaustion, Harry finds him. "I'm sorry," is all he says, before taking Draco in his arms.

All is fine. The war is won. Harry is back to him.

* * *

 **put your hands up if you don't know what you're doing here *raises hand* well i tried.**

 **~butter**


	10. la fleur et la fille ave les cheveux ros

**going, going, gone: fleur/tonks (flonks?)**

 **the golden snitch: language club: (quote) 'mais j'étais trop jeune pour savoir l'aimer'—le petit prince**

 **any french may be wrong.**

 **word count: 620**

* * *

 **la fleur et la fille avec les cheveux roses**

* * *

Fleur sits across from her younger sister, trying to blend into her surroundings. This house is huge, and scary, but she wants to be here. Harry helped her in the Tournament and joining this Order will help him in the long run. " _Il est beau, mais j'étais trop jeune pour savoir l'aimer, donc il m'a quitté._ "

" _C'est un bon chose_ ," Fleur replies, looking at her younger sister with a supportive smile on her face. " _Tu as dix ans._ "

Gabrielle sighs, shaking her head at Fleur. Her body language seems to scream at Fleur's hypocrisy: but Gabrielle's more innocent than she's ever been. She deserves to be protected. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," a pink-haired woman says, sitting down in the seat next to Fleur. "Everyone else here is so much older than me though. I'm Tonks."

She holds out a hand that seems to gleam, more than she ever thought a hand could shine. "Non, you are okay. I am Fleur, c'est nice to meet you."

"Oh, you're French!" The Tonks seems to be excited with this revelation. "Bonjour! Ah, fuck, that's all I know. Sorry."

"Eet ees okay, Tonks," Fleur says. "I can say Eenglish words."

Tonks smiles. " _Fleur, je vais trouver Ginny_ ," Gabrielle interrupts, standing up and getting out of her chair. " _Elle est drôle. Et tu es occupée avec Tonks, non_?"

Fleur is left alone with Tonks. She twirls her hands nervously. For all she says that she can understand English, she's not very good at it, and it makes her head spin after a while. "Your sister seems nice," Tonks says. "At least, I'm assuming she's your sister. You do look alike and she's French like you so I thought…"

"Oui, she ees my seester," Fleur replies, smiling slightly as she watches her sister stumble up the stairs. "She ees 'ere as our parents are voyaging and I look after 'er. She ees not joining ze Order."

"Are you?" Tonks asks, leaning forwards. "It would be nice to have someone my own age. And…" she hesitates slightly before continuing with, "And I can help you with your English, to make it easier for you within the Order, if you'd like?"

"Zat would be good."

* * *

During meetings, Fleur sits next to Tonks, who explains things for Fleur if she doesn't understand them. It isn't great, as people think of Fleur as stupid because she cannot understand what is being said, but she can speak two languages more fluently than they can, so who is the smart one and who is not in this situation? She stays with Tonks after to eat some of Mrs Weasley's dinner, which is almost as good as her mother's but not quite what she wants. Tonks entertains Gabrielle, Ginny and Hermione by changing her facial shape. Whilst Hermione attempts to make conversation with Gabrielle and Fleur in French, the Ron stares at Fleur with a dreamy look in his eyes. It sickens her, but maybe hormonal boys are not in control of their senses?

Fleur shares a room with Tonks when she stays, and she gets closer to the pink-haired woman. Tonks is only a few years older than her, and the next closest are the two twins that are a year younger than her (and are menaces).

She finds out loads about Tonks. She is an Auror; her father is a Muggle-born; she is bisexual. And Fleur is captivated by her.

And then they kiss. And all Fleur can think is ' _c'est beau_ ' and ' _je l'aime_.' She is hooked like a fish on a rope, or whatever the saying is. And Tonks appears to be the same way.

It is perfect. It is just what she needs within this British war.

* * *

 **mehehehehe**

 **~butter**


	11. my last hours with you (are they worth?)

**Pinata: Romance (genre)**

 **Unicorn Day: Notter: Theo/Harry**

 **Going, going, gone: colour: pink**

 **Couple Appreciation: trope: marriage law**

 **Word count: 770**

* * *

 **my last hours with you (are they worth it?)**

* * *

Theo presses his lips to Harry's head, holding him close to his chest. "Should we run away?" Harry asks, turning around to face Theo.

He sighs. "I don't think that's a good idea," he replies, keeping his arms around Harry. "They'll find us, and then they'll kill us."

Harry groans. "I know," he says, his voice low and disappointed. "I just don't want to lose you."

It is pretty much guaranteed that they're not going to get each other. This new Law has been put in place so that the wizarding population will replenish, and the new government is so old-fashioned that they believe the best marriage consists of a male and a female. Harry is not a female, and neither is he. They should have married whilst they had the chance.

Theo rests his head on Harry's. "It'll be fine, Harry. What's the worst they can do? We'll still be able to see each other."

"I suppose. I love you, Theo."

"I love you too."

* * *

Theo cannot look at Harry as they walk into the Ministry. Many people around their age are also lining up, preparing to have their lives ruined just like them. Theo can't look.

"Theodore Nott," a voice calls, and he walks over to the door with one last glance at Harry.

The office is small. There are two chairs in there, and Theo sits in one of them. He cannot imagine who his new wife will be. They had to take tests and list all relatives. He's certain it won't be Millicent, then, but will it be Harry?

A nervous woman in a dark pink dress walks in. She is definitely not Harry. Her hair is blonde and her skin is white with a tinge of pink. "This is Hannah Abbott," the Ministry Worker says.

Hannah looks about as upset as he feels. "She is your wife now. If you do not achieve conception within the first year the marriage will be terminated and a new marriage will be formed."

Both Theo and Hannah blanch at that. "Grab the Portkey and you will be sent to your new home. Good luck on your marriage!"

Their new home is nice, if not a little empty. Hannah falls onto the floor upon their arrival, the skirt of her pink dress pooling around her feet as she lets out little sobs. Theo crouches down beside her, trying to be strong even though all he wants to do is break down for the loss of Harry. "I know, Hannah," he whispers, resting a hand on her shoulder. "We can get through this, though."

She rests her head on his side, crying into his t-shirt. "You're not Neville," she says, gripping his shirt tight.

"I know," he replies, and they stay like that for a while, mourning the loss of their relationships.

* * *

 _Meet me at midnight._

It has been two months since the Marriage Law became effective. His cousin, Millicent, is pregnant already: one month along. It's hell for her: she is not into men as much as her partner is in to women.

Hannah, however, is not. He gave her a break when they first got married, but after that they've tried every other day. Neither of them are happy. They each want someone else.

Theo leaves Hannah a note as he sneaks out to meet the person who wrote to him. She would understand why he hasn't told her in person. At least, he hopes she will.

Harry is waiting outside his house. When Theo sees him, his pace quickens, and he is soon in Harry's arms. "Run away with me," Harry whispers in his ear.

This time, Theo agrees.

* * *

They can access Wizarding British news in Muggle Australia. They are being looked for. Pansy, Harry's new wife, is successfully diffusing the attention, though, as she cries on the radio about having to raise a child on her own and all of that which Theo knows Pansy can do on her own. Harry and Theo hide as close friends, as they're not sure on how accepting Muggles are.

Hannah is only mentioned once on the radio. They say she killed herself because her husband abandoned her. Theo knows better, and regrets leaving her behind.

The peace doesn't last long. They are found. The people that find them are ruthless, and burn the house down despite the fact that Muggles live there too.

* * *

Their story is told for years to come. It is used to show people what will happen if they choose 'fake' love over compatibility. Only a few people make the mistake that Harry and Theo did.

* * *

 **it's okay. not much angst, right?**

 **~butter**


End file.
